Unspoken Words
by timeaftertime09
Summary: What if Daniel had spoken to Betty the night of her "Goodbye" party? A short fic inspired by a B&B challenge.
1. Chapter 1

Daniel stared through the glass doors at the empty space Betty had danced in during her 'Goodbye' party. She was leaving. She was _really . . . leaving_. He didn't know why it hadn't completely penetrated his skull. But he felt it now more than ever. An empty space in his heart and his life was about to develop and he wasn't sure how he was going to deal with the pain. It was the reason he couldn't face her. It was torture just watching her from afar, seeing her so happy about starting a new life - a new life without him in it.

Obviously, he knew he was being selfish and quick to judge. He knew Betty wasn't leaving _him_ – she was leaving _MODE_. She only wanted to achieve her dream of running her own magazine. This wasn't about him at all. He was being such a jackass to her because he had unresolved issues and he didn't want to face them – didn't _need_ to face them with her leaving. What was the point?

And now she would probably spend the rest of her life thinking he hated her, when the truth was that it was the exact opposite. Totally and completely the exact opposite.

He wished he had had the decency to tell her 'goodbye', to say how much he admired and cared for her as a friend . . . how much he'd miss her. At least she would have known he wasn't writing her off.

If only he had danced with her one last time. To feel the warmth of her body next to his . . . to hold her in his arms . . . He could picture them in that moment, closer than they'd ever been before . . . clinging to each other as desperately as they clung to all the memories they had shared with each other . . . her head against his chest, his cheek resting on the top of her head . . . neither of them caring what others around them thought or whispered . . .

But it was too late. She was gone - probably on her way to the airport that very minute or already flying over an entire ocean to make another country her home. And he'd never see her again.

He climbed the stairs to the roof, needing some fresh air and a new perspective. He had to think of how he was going to move on from a relationship that had never really started . . . As he got to the roof he stopped, noticing a small figure leaning against the balcony wall, empty champagne flute in her hand. He'd recognize that figure anywhere.

"Betty?" he said, slowly approaching her.

"You weren't there. You avoided me for two weeks. _Two . . . weeks._ I left you thirty voicemails and a hundred texts and you didn't pick up the phone or answer me once," she solemnly responded, not even turning around; it was how well she knew his voice.

"I'm sorry. I-I couldn't –" he began.

"Couldn't what? Couldn't face me? Couldn't deal with me leaving, so instead of talking to me like we always have you just shut me out? That's not fair, Daniel!" she snapped, smashing the glass on the concrete as she whisked her body around, causing him to flinch.

He had never seen her so pissed at him, but he was pissed, too.

"Tell me what's fair then, Betty? Apparently letting me know in a mass email was perfectly fine, but me not letting you in on how much it's killing me to see you go is a crime!" he countered.

Betty guiltily looked down at the ground.

"You're right. I'm sorry - I shouldn't have done that. I didn't know what to say . . . how to tell you . . . I kept putting it off and then Marc said it for me before I had the chance . . ." she admitted, staring out at the city.

"Why was this any different than before? I'm your _friend_ – I had the right to know! You can't just spring something on me like that and expect me _not_ to be upset! We tell each other _everything,_ Betty! I thought I meant more to you than that?'' he couldn't let her slide by with a measly 'I'm sorry'.

Betty abruptly turned to face him.

"You _do_, Daniel! _God!_ That's why I _couldn't_ tell you! I tried to, but every time I did, I took one look at you and chickened out. You have no _idea_ how hard this has been for me! How much I agonized over seeing your face – that look of shock and sadness that you always try to cover up. It was breaking my heart to know I had to break yours. And this time it'll be even worse, because we won't even be able to have lunch or coffee or a movie night . . . I just couldn't bring myself to do it, and then it was too late," she explained, choking back tears of frustration and sadness.

"Did you honestly think you wouldn't have to at some point? Was I one day just going to find a postcard in the mail saying, 'Hi, Daniel! I took a job in London – see you at Thanksgiving!'?" he mocked her high-pitched enthusiasm.

"_No _– _I don't know _– I didn't think, okay? Kinda like you and your 'amazing' pyrotechnics trick with my release form," she pointed out, rolling her eyes.

Daniel lowered his head in shame.

"So what are you doing up here, anyway?" he wondered.

"I came out here to clear my head. There's a little voice that keeps telling me I need to stay – that I'm being selfish. And maybe I am. _You_ hate me, my family's sad . . . I can't imagine what it's doing to Papi, even though he'll never admit it . . ." Betty regretfully sighed.

"You're not being selfish . . . you've done so much for the other people in your life. It's time to do something for yourself," he assured her.

She meekly nodded.

". . . And I could _never_ hate you," Daniel promised, calming down.

"And you know I could never stay mad at you for long," she weakly smiled. "You're my best friend – I-I love you so much . . ." she told him, her chin quivering.

Daniel's heart skipped a beat, despite the fact that he knew Betty only meant it as a friend. He pulled her into a warm embrace.

"I love you, too," he sighed. "More than you know . . ." he inaudibly muttered.

"What?" Betty lifted her head from his chest.

"Nothing – I just said you need to go. You've probably gotta get ready to leave," he quickly covered.

"Oh. Yeah, my flight's at 6:30AM. I'm not gonna get a whole lot of sleep, but I'm sure my family's wondering where I am," she agreed.

"You're doing the right thing, Betty – you'll be great," Daniel reassured her.

"Thank you," she shyly tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "I'm really going to miss you," she gazed at him, a bittersweet look on her face.

"Me, too," he said, briefly kissing her lips without even thinking.

The second he did it, he regretted it. Was he out of his freakin' mind? They'd never even done the whole friendly cheek kissing thing, much less a peck on the lips. He'd totally blown it. Or maybe he hadn't . . .

He suddenly noticed Betty's expression turn from confusion to curiosity. Her lips fell onto his - timidly at first, then with a lustful passion, her tongue battling his as if she yearned to hold onto him, take a piece of him with her.

As they broke, Daniel had to take a few seconds to process what had just happened.

"A-Are you okay with this?" he asked.

"Isn't that supposed to be my line?" she joked.

They both laughed, nervously.

"Seriously, was that weird for you?" Daniel wondered.

"I thought it might be, you know, given our history – but it wasn't . . . And from your reaction, I take it your mother's 'theory' was right?" she said.

"'Theory'?" he raised an eyebrow.

"She told me tonight that you didn't hate me . . . that losing me was really hard on you and she had a theory of why," she recalled. "I didn't believe her . . . I didn't think in a million years you'd think of me that way . . . or that I'd wonder for a second what it'd be like," she confessed.

"But you did," he observed.

"Yeah," she nodded.

Their lips magnetically met again, both trying to postpone the end of the night . . . the end of their time together.

"We should go . . ." Betty eventually said, her breath ragged.

"You're right . . . you need to get home, get ready for your flight . . ." he reluctantly agreed.

"No – I mean somewhere besides the roof . . ." she clarified, taking his hand in hers.

"Oh," was all Daniel managed to say before they raced down the stairs and into his office.

As Betty closed the blinds in the already dim room, lit only by the city lights, Daniel began to get a little apprehensive. The last thing he wanted was for things to be awkward between them.

"Betty, are you sure about this?" he asked.

"I don't want to think . . . I don't want to talk anymore . . . I just want to be with you tonight," she said with pleading eyes. ". . . if you want that, too?" she hesitantly added.

"I do . . . but Betty, I –" he tried to think rationally, knowing she'd be leaving in the morning, knowing it was their first time together - that it could change everything in their relationship.

Betty gently pressed two fingers to his mouth.

"Shh . . ." she smiled and practically devoured his lips, pushing his suit jacket over his shoulders and onto the floor.

It was all it took for him to cave. After all, it was what he'd been fantasizing about not a week after Hilda's wedding.

He slid the gold sequined jacket off of her shoulders and struggled to remove her black sleeveless turtleneck top. Betty, however, had no trouble at all and proceeded to relieve him of his shirt as well, leaving a seductive trail of kisses as she unbuttoned it and his pants, allowing her hands to roam free.

Daniel kissed her hard on the mouth before his lips and fingers wandered down her neck and over her breasts, the classic black lace of her bra surprising, considering her usually colorful wardrobe. He glossed over the trivial observation as he fervently stripped the rest of her clothing and his and led her to the chaise, never breaking the closeness between them as he continued to make love to her into the night.

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"Mmm . . . that was . . ." Betty struggled to find the right adjectives as she snuggled against Daniel's muscular chest, her leg lazily draped across his waist.

"Amazing? Incredible? Spectacular?" Daniel filled in the blanks as he kissed his way up her arm.

"Complimenting yourself again?" she flirted.

"Well _you_ were a big part of it, if I remember correctly . . . _Why_ didn't we do this sooner?" he playfully asked.

"I have no idea," she grinned, toying with his fingers.

For almost a half an hour, they silently basked in the afterglow, enveloped in the bliss of their union.

Daniel couldn't have been happier to have been so close to Betty, the smell of her hair . . . the taste of her lips . . . she was intoxicating. And as they both drifted in and out of a contented sleep, he briefly forgot what would happen the next day and concentrated on the present.

". . . I've got a confession to make," Daniel said, after fully waking up.

"What?" she curiously looked up at him.

"Promise you won't get offended . . . and not that I spent a lot of time on this - but I guess I always pictured you as . . . innocent . . . sweet . . . And you turned out to be . . ." he trailed off.

"The exact opposite?" she finished for him.

"Kinda . . . a little feisty . . . and a lot more experienced than I expected," he admitted.

"I'm not a virgin, Daniel," she smirked.

"I know - it's just the guys you dated were . . ." he hesitated.

"Pathetic? I guess so . . . except for Matt. You have to admit he was ten steps up – _not_ that he can compare to _you_, though," Betty replied, briefly kissing his lips in assurance.

"Thank you," Daniel chuckled.

"I don't think I'd go _that_ far about Hartley, though. He was better for you, but still a big flake and a loser when it came to treating you right," he absently stroked her hair and kissed her temple.

"There you go again, always trying to protect me . . . I'm going to miss you," she smiled.

"And I'll miss you, too – who else is gonna pull me out of the messes I get into or give me enthusiastic pep-talks?" he teased.

"_Daniel . . ._" Betty giggled into his chest then turned serious, tenderly capturing his lips as a wave of sadness seemed to overwhelm her.

Reality set in. Daniel tried not to let on how much he wanted to hold Betty in his arms forever . . . not to get in even deeper than he already knew he was. But the feel of her warm skin against his . . . her soft lips swollen from their heated passion . . . the way they had melded together mere minutes ago . . .

Their first time was more about curiosity and desire . . . a need to make the most of the night. But as they made love again, it was different - tender . . . emotional . . . attempting to memorize each other, knowing it would more than likely be the last time they'd spend together so close and so vulnerable.

Daniel found it difficult to detach his feelings and consider that night as just a moment and nothing more. It was ironic, when he thought about it, because that had been his claim-to-fame in the past. But he had found someone – _the one_. And now, more than ever, he didn't want to let her go . . .


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed - your feedback is greatly appreciated! I won't leave you in suspense any longer . . ._

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Betty lazily opened her eyes; her head was pounding and her mouth was dry and fuzzy feeling. The morning sunlight streaming in from the windows in Daniel's office was too much for her massive hangover. Wait – Daniel's office? What the hell was she doing in Daniel's office so early . . . and naked? She suddenly sensed his bare chest rising and falling beneath her head and chest . . . his muscular legs tangled with hers . . . his arm draped across her lower hip . . . realizing what had happened the night before.

_Oh, god!_ She couldn't believe what she'd actually done . . . and with _Daniel!_ But then she couldn't help but smile, remembering how incredible it had felt to be with him like that . . . to finally release all of the pent up tension between them and just let go . . . forget about having to leave him and moving to London – London! Her flight! What time was it? 5:30AM!

"_Shit!_" she exclaimed, loud enough to startle Daniel out of a peaceful slumber.

He sprung up in a state of panic.

"What? Huh?" he looked around, thoroughly confused.

Betty frantically searched for her glasses and clothes.

"I'm going to miss my flight! _Damn it!_ Why didn't you wake me up?" she yelled fastening her bra and pulling on her skirt, fully aware that it wasn't entirely his fault, but not caring at the moment.

"I thought you'd have an alarm or something – I don't know . . ." he half-heartedly defended himself, rubbing his eyes.

"Well I didn't – it's not like I _planned_ this, Daniel! I _planned_ to be _home_ before now with a _real_ alarm clock!" she angrily snapped in frustration, thrusting on her top and shoving her arms into her jacket.

"Where the hell are my panties?" she flipped out, after searching every possible place she could think of. "Screw it! I'll get some out of my suitcase when Hilda brings it and my ticket," she said before Daniel even had the chance to help her look.

"I've gotta go – I'm sorry!" she grabbed her heels and hurriedly ran to the door.

"Betty, wait! You'll never make it in time – not with traffic and all the security they have now," Daniel stopped her as he quickly found his pants and pulled them on, meeting her at the door. "Let me book the Meade jet for you. You can leave after breakfast. We'll have time to talk, you can say a decent 'Goodbye' to your family . . ." he offered, lightly caressing her cheek with his fingertips, his touch sending shivers through her spine.

Betty took a deep, shaky breath and tried to fight it off. His offer, while tempting, wasn't one she needed to accept. She couldn't prolong leaving him anymore. It was time to let him go and move on – no matter how much it hurt to do so.

"Daniel, there's nothing to talk about. What happened between us last night was just an emotional 'Goodbye' between two really close friends – nothing more. We'll be living on two different continents – you have your job, I have mine . . . It's better this way," Betty told him, pulling away. "I'll text you when I land," she insisted before rushing out the door.

She had wanted so badly to kiss him one last time, but knew if she had it wouldn't have been their last.

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"_You slept with Daniel?" _Hilda exclaimed through the phone, not even bothering to say 'Hi' first.

"_What?_ No! _No!_ Where the hell did you get that?" Betty denied, wondering if Wilhelmina had planted a hidden camera in Daniel's office or something.

"Justin said that yesterday Marc found a pair of black lace panties hanging on the sculpture in Daniel's office," Hilda told her.

_Oh, god_ . . . Wait - maybe no one would figure it out – nobody from MODE knew she hadn't left that night.

"Wh-What makes you think they're mine? They could be anyone's. And why was Marc in Daniel's office on the weekend without him being there, anyway?" Betty tried to change the subject.

"They weren't even _close_ to a Size 0, Betty. I'm not tryin' to be mean or anything, but who else do you know at MODE who isn't? Face it, Mamita – you're busted!" Hilda matter-of-factly informed her sister.

_Shit! She was screwed!_ Marc couldn't keep his freakin' mouth shut about someone daring to eat a bagel with extra cream cheese, much less something as big as this. It'd be plastered all over TMZ by the time she got back from lunch and Suzuki was probably already having a field day with it.

"Anyway, Wilhelmina wanted to check something in the book – which he left unprotected again. And apparently he was so hung up about you leaving that he actually told her where she could find it," Hilda continued.

"Great . . . The last thing he needs is to let Wilhelmina have full reign over him," Betty said.

"_Exactly._ That bitch has been tryin' to take over MODE since before you started workin' there. You really did a number on him, Betty . . ." she agreed. "So tell me, was he worth it?" she eagerly inquired.

"_Hilda!_" Betty protested.

"_Whaaaat?_ You honestly think I wasn't gonna expect some juicy details? It's you and _Daniel_ – New York's most eligible millionaire and famous playboy. Did he live up to his reputation?" she wondered.

"_Jesus_, Hilda! Are you really that hard up for the scoop on my sex life? Okay – bad choice of words. But seriously, do we have to talk about this?" Betty sighed, really not wanting to get into it.

"_Yes_, we do. Now at least tell me this – are you happy you did it?" she pried.

"Yeah – no – _maybe_ . . . I don't know . . . Us being together like that was amazing, but I keep thinking we made a mistake . . . because I miss him," Betty confessed.

"Mamita . . . you need to talk to him. _Tell_ him – I'm sure you two can work it out. You can't keep this from him – I'm sure he's struggling with it, too. I mean, you guys have been close for as long as I can remember and now you've taken it to another level . . . You can't expect to walk away and not feel anything afterwards," Hilda reasoned with her.

"I guess I should've thought things through before I practically jumped him," she groaned.

"_Ay!_ Chica, you are one _bad ass!_" Hilda giggled.

"_Not helping_, Hilda!" Betty sighed, leaning back on the couch as her sister continued to gossip about more news she had missed in the past two days.

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It had almost been a week since Betty had left New York. Shockingly, Marc had given her a break and kept her secret to himself. She wondered if he was feeling okay, but didn't bother to question a miracle. Plus, she had been so inundated with the work and stress of starting a magazine from the ground up that her mind couldn't afford to think of anything else – especially Daniel - during the day.

However, she would lay awake nights, unable to fully sleep. Had she done the right thing? _Of course_ she had done the right thing. This was her dream job and Daniel had his own life in New York. He didn't need her . . . he was just afraid of flying solo after four years of having her as his crutch. What had happened between them that night was simply a passionate end to their extremely close friendship - that was it.

But why did she continue to fantasize about him holding her in his arms again . . . remember exactly how his lips tasted . . . the smell of his cologne . . . the feel of his heated skin against hers . . . She missed him – not just his body, but _him_ – his boyish grin when he teased her, his smile when he was genuinely happy or proud, his charm, his stubbornness, his endearing protectiveness of the people he cared most for, the way he didn't always know the right thing to say or do but somehow ended up winning her over every time . . . She really needed to focus on something else, _someone_ else. Daniel was an ocean away and that was the way it needed to be.

What if she _had_ stayed? What if she and Daniel had decided to pursue a romantic relationship? As intriguing as the idea sounded, it would only have ended in resentment, because she would have missed her opportunity to break free of MODE and achieve her goal. Then, there would go their friendship _and_ her career.

No – this was the right choice. She and Daniel wouldn't be as close anymore, but at least she'd still have an opportunity to make a difference as a full-fledged EIC. They'd still see each other during holidays and be able to email each other – it wasn't like they were in love . . . just attracted to each other. That was all it was – lust and nostalgia. Hilda was wrong – she didn't need to call Daniel. It would only make things worse.

As a distraction, she tried to come up with a name for her magazine to present to Lindsay. It was a younger person's 'New Yorker' . . . so maybe 'Young British Hopefuls'? . . . No . . . 'London Modern'? . . . 'Inspire'? – maybe . . . Oh well, she'd just run it by Daniel in the morning – he'd have some insight.

Daniel . . . _Damn it!_ There he was again, dominating not only her personal thoughts, but her business ones, too. Only, it was inevitable that she'd be thinking of him when it came to business. She'd never done anything without getting his opinion – even if she didn't really need it. She had always valued his thoughts. They had had a mutual admiration of each other's talent.

But now, she couldn't bounce ideas off of him. She honestly wasn't sure she could even talk to him about anything at this point. It was too awkward . . . the memory was too fresh in her mind – probably his as well. She got up and turned on the TV in the living room, hoping to eventually drift off to sleep on the couch.

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"Marc said Daniel's been mopey all week and has let Wilhelmina pretty much do whatever she's wanted to lately. All he does is stare at your guy's picture from the wedding and lurk around yours and Marc's office. And he didn't even show up this morning," Hilda told Betty over the phone.

Betty continued to walk through the city, reaching Trafalgar Square.

"He didn't?" she said, shocked. She thought he'd be okay, given it'd been a week. Sure, she knew he had feelings for her, but none that a gorgeous woman and a competent new Features editor couldn't cure.

"You need to call him, Betty," Hilda insisted.

"What makes you think I didn't?" Betty stalled.

"Um . . . Daniel's still a wreck and you don't sound so hot yourself – isn't that a big enough clue?" Hilda countered.

"Look I don't think it's –" Betty began. "Oops! Sorry!" she apologized as she ran into someone.

"Betty," Daniel greeted her.

"Hilda, I'll call you back . . ." Betty slowly said, hanging up, shocked that he was standing right in front of her.

"Daniel! Wh-What are you doing here?" she wondered.

"Can we go somewhere and talk?" he asked.

"Yeah . . ." Betty motioned to the almost secluded steps.

As they sat down, Betty expectantly looked at him.

"I quit MODE," Daniel told her.

"_What? Why?_ And _please_ don't tell me it had anything to do with me," Betty demanded an explanation.

"I can't do that, Betty. It _was_ partially because of you – without you there . . . I didn't care anymore. You were the one who always inspired me to succeed in that magazine. I never wanted that job in the first place, but you made me care about it. I don't know what I want to do now . . . but I _do_ know _who_ I want, and it's you," Daniel confessed.

Betty almost choked on her chewing gum. This wasn't supposed to happen . . . this wasn't how things were supposed to play out . . .

"Daniel . . . you can't just quit your job because we had one night of great sex," Betty carefully took in his explanation. "Why do you have to complicate things?" she groaned, wondering if he had learned anything in the past four years.

"Betty, things got complicated the second we made love," he pointed out.

"It was _sex_, Daniel," she adamantly insisted.

She wondered if it wasn't more to convince herself than him.

"No! It was _more_ than that – and you know it! I could see it in your eyes that night – you felt it too," Daniel maintained.

"I-I've gotten pretty good at faking it," she lied.

_Oh, god!_ Did she really say that?

But instead of taking it as an insult, Daniel appeared to be smirking it off, almost amused.

"You're lying. I _know_ you – I can read your mind just like you can read mine. I know your expressions . . . I know your body language . . . I know every . . . part . . . of you . . ." he told her, quietly yet confidently, running his finger along her cheek, down her lips, over her arm. "And I know you felt what I felt that night," he inched closer to her with every word, his eyes challenging hers.

Betty turned away and lowered her head, nervously staring at the black dots on her white stilettos. Maybe if she stared long enough at them she could hypnotize herself out of this situation.

"You're right . . . I wasn't faking it. But apparently you don't know me as well as you think you do, because you've got me all wrong about the rest. H-How can you expect me to react to this? I have a life here now, Daniel! Unlike you, I'm not going to throw away my career because there _might_ be something more between us besides coffee, editing, and karaoke. Are you _crazy?_" her anger built up.

"Yes! If you wanna put it that way, I _am_ crazy – about you!" he admitted.

_Damn it!_ Why did he have to make this so hard on her . . .?

"I, uh, I can't deal with this, Daniel," she told him, trying not to cry.

"You're scared, Betty. You probably had this plan and the fact that this wasn't part of it is throwing you off. You don't like change – not being prepared. But you and I both know that life always throws us surprises – and some of them can be _really_ . . . _good_ . . ." he reasoned, cradling her chin in his hands.

His lips found their way to hers, his tongue expertly parting them, grazing her teeth before entering the warmth of her mouth, kissing her until her body went limp from pleasure.

"Look me in the eye, Betty, and tell me you didn't feel that," he demanded, unwilling to back down.

"I –" she struggled whether to cave or to allow her inhibitions continue to control her.

The clock chimed, as if knowing she needed an opportunity to step back and think things over.

"I have to get back to work . . ." she told him.

"Tonight – dinner? We need to finish this," he proposed, determined to break her resolve.

"I can't," she answered, but then noticed the look of defeat forming on his face. "I've got a launch party to go to for one of our sister magazines," she explained.

"Oh," he said, disappointedly.

She sighed, hating how much power he had over her.

"You could come . . . make a few new contacts, catch up with some old?" she offered.

His blue eyes immediately lit up.

"But that doesn't mean we're . . . you know – a couple or anything," she clarified.

"Got it. It's just a date," he smiled.

"You're my Plus 1, Daniel. Please don't make it into anything more than it is," she corrected him.

"And if it happens to become something else?" he playfully pushed.

She handed him her address.

"Just pick me up at 7PM," she warned, fighting a smile as she walked down the steps.

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The more she thought about everything, the more infuriated she became. _How dare he_ quit his job and come here and tell her that he wanted more? _How dare he_ deem her responsible? If anything went wrong with their relationship, it'd be all her fault for causing him to give up his career and his family . . . What the hell was he thinking? He was so impulsive – one night with her and he bolted off to London to follow her? Was he that desperate?

And she was mad at herself. Why hadn't she tried harder to resist him? Why had she melted at his touch and a mere look from his piercing blue eyes? Why had she invited him to a launch party? It was as if she had become as susceptible to his charm as every pea-brained model he'd screwed over the years. The difference, she concluded, was that she wanted more than just sex. She cared about Daniel, himself – not his money or his fame and what it could get her.

She knew she deserved to be happy, and she could see Daniel doing that for her. Only, what about _his_ happiness? He had sacrificed it to be with her. That was a lot of pressure. She wasn't convinced she was ready to take it on. If things didn't work out, their friendship _and_ his life would be ruined. Was pursuing whatever they had worth it? But turning him down . . . never taking that chance . . . always wondering 'What if?' . . . She buried her head on her desk, wishing she knew the right thing to do.


	3. Chapter 3

_Thank you so much for reading and reviewing - I really appreciate it! :) Here's the next installment . . ._

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As Daniel watched Betty put the two dozen red roses he had brought her in the vase, he tried to contain his urge to pull her into him with a fervent kiss and make her forget anything she ever knew about launch parties.

Clad in the new curve-accentuating Valentino one strap black cocktail dress he knew his mother had gotten her as a parting gift, along with black Ferragamo stilettos and a red Dior clutch she'd probably snagged from The Closet on Swag Day, she was simply the most intoxicating woman he'd ever laid his eyes on. But he had to control himself if wanted her to even consider taking the next step with him.

In some ways, he found it strange to think about Betty in that way. She had been his best friend for four years, never wavering in her devotion. He had always admired and adored her and knew all along that she was beautiful, but didn't think much about any of it until Hilda's wedding. When she had stepped out of that limo it was like he was eyeing a brilliant actress on the red carpet. He felt the same right then. From the clumsy mismatched girl he had first met, she had grown into this confident, stylish, incredible woman.

Betty waved her hand in front of his face.

"Daniel? If you don't get that goofy grin off of your face and grab your jacket, we're going to be late," she teasingly shook her head and pushed him gently toward the door.

"Sorry, I was just thinking how amazing you look," he shyly admitted.

"Thank you. You look great, too," she smiled humbly as they left.

And she meant it. Daniel really cleaned up nicely - not that he didn't always look great. But that night he looked even sexier, somehow . . . Medium purple Marc Jacobs shirt with the first few buttons undone revealing just enough of his chest to leave her wanting more, black Gucci pants and suit jacket . . . And the way he kept looking at her . . . like he wanted to devour her . . . She needed to stop – it wasn't a good idea to forget her inhibitions a second time without making a solid decision about their future together. It wasn't right and she had to restrain herself – no matter what. It wasn't fair to Daniel or to herself not to . . .

She could hear Daniel's voice calling her back to reality.

"Betty – look out!" he exclaimed as he pulled her back to the sidewalk, out of danger from the car whizzing past them.

"Where _were_ you? You scared the shit out of me!" Daniel freaked out, his heart practically beating out of his chest at the thought of what could have happened to her.

"I-I'm sorry. I was just lost in thought," Betty said, a little shaken.

"Come here," he pulled her soothingly against him. "Do me a favor – if you can't think and pay attention to where you're going at the same time - don't think," he half-joked, affectionately kissing the top of her head.

"Promise," she meekly answered.

_God!_ She was so obsessed with finding the right solution to their situation that she almost killed herself _and_ Daniel in the process. She _had_ to step back from it a little.

"Are you gonna be okay?" he asked, worried.

He'd never known her to be so spaced out.

"I'm fine. Let's go," she assured him.

"Okay . . ." he said, unsure, taking her hand for her own protection.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Betty, so pleased you could join us. I believe it will be a wonderful opportunity for you to get acquainted with more of our staff," Lindsay Dunne greeted her as they entered the party's venue.

"Thank you, Lindsay. You remember Daniel Meade?" Betty said.

"Yes. Daniel, good to see you again. My humblest apologies for stealing away one of your best employees," Lindsay good-naturedly replied.

"Betty is incredible and I know she's missed at MODE. But I respect and support her decision. I have faith she'll do amazing things wherever she goes. I only wish her the best," Daniel responded, putting his hand on the small of Betty's back.

"I couldn't agree with you more. Betty is a true gem," Lindsay said.

"Thank you. I promise I won't let either of you down," Betty shyly smiled, embarrassed at all the compliments.

"I presume you're in town on some business with the London branch of MODE?" Lindsay guessed, addressing Daniel's presence in the city.

"Actually, I've stepped down as editor. I'm pursuing different options at the moment," Daniel carefully answered.

Betty felt herself blush and hoped neither man noticed.

"Well, the best of luck. I hope you find what it is you're looking for. If you'll excuse me, I believe Isaac is in need of my assistance," Lindsay said, gesturing to the young man subtly motioning for his help.

Betty and Daniel smiled politely and nodded.

"Thank you . . . for not saying anything about our situation. I think he honestly bought that you came to support me moving here while you're looking for new business prospects," Betty quietly said as she turned to Daniel.

"Why wouldn't he – it's the truth?" he feigned innocence.

Betty judgingly raised an eyebrow.

"Okay . . . maybe not _completely_. My prospect search isn't entirely business-based," he admitted with a sheepish grin. "Any predictions on the outcome?" he hopefully asked.

"Daniel, please. I'm not trying to lead you on – I swear - but I need more time to think things over. Take this as an opportunity to mingle a little and maybe discover what you'd like to do next in your work life - _if _you're really serious about quitting MODE," Betty honestly requested, discreetly squeezing his hand.

Daniel couldn't help but resent her skepticism, but found comfort in the fact that she still hadn't flat-out turned him down. He reluctantly nodded.

"I'm going to see if I can talk with Grace Eagan from Escape - she did the most touching and informative piece on orphans in Bosnia," she told him, her eyes lighting up with admiration as she bounded off.

Daniel decided to take Betty's advice; only before he had a chance, someone approached him.

"Aren't you Daniel Meade?" the tall, slender, brunette woman in her mid-twenties inquired.

"Yes," Daniel smiled.

"I'm Anastasia Ashford. It's a pleasure to finally meet you! I've read all about you and am a tremendous fan!" she gushed.

"Thank you," Daniel modestly replied.

He used to love the girls flaunting all over him. But not after he started to care about more than just a good time that never lasted more than a night.

"I probably shouldn't be saying this since I work for a business magazine at Dunne, but I've always wanted to work in a fashion one in New York. MODE has been such an inspiration to me – especially since you became editor – there's something a little more meaningful and less shallow about it, compared to the other fashion magazines. And that bit you wrote about love being 'the one attitude that never goes out of fashion' – it was so touching and true that it made me cry a smidge," Anastasia went on.

"I'm glad you liked it. And I'm sure if you work hard enough, one day, you'll achieve your goal," Daniel said.

"Thank you. That means a lot, coming from you. It's such a shame you stepped down . . . I don't mean to pry, but is the part about your friend true?" she wondered.

Daniel hesitated, not wanting to reveal too much when Betty wasn't near the point of going public. He knew if he admitted to it that Anastasia would be able to figure out who his friend was. Fortunately, Betty came up to him before he could speak.

"Hey, having fun?" she asked, eyeing the perfectly put together woman. "Hi, I'm Betty Suarez – editor of Dunne's new society magazine," she introduced herself.

"Anastasia Ashford – I'm a Features editor for Corporate Chaos. I take it you and Daniel know each other?" she assumed, noticing the casualness with which Betty greeted him.

"Daniel was my boss when I worked for MODE," Betty explained.

"Really? Isn't _that_ a coincidence?" Anastasia smiled.

Betty and Daniel could see the wheels spinning in her head.

"Well, I'd best be going. I promised some friends I'd share a drink with them. It was lovely meeting the both of you," Anastasia hurriedly spoke before taking off.

"Great. So much for keeping this between _us_," she sighed, noticing Anastasia immediately gossiping with some of the other women, glancing back over at her and Daniel while giggling like a school girl.

"Betty, I promise I didn't say anything to her," Daniel said, rubbing her arm.

"I know. I just don't get how she could jump to that conclusion just because I said I used to work for you," she shook her head in disbelief.

"I don't know," Daniel shrugged, hoping he wouldn't have to bring up the infamous 'letter'. "Come on. Let's give them something else to talk about," he suggested, leading her to the dance floor as the DJ played Human League's 'Don't You Want Me?'.

As Daniel spun her around, Betty soon forgot her reservations about inviting him to a public event. It wasn't like it was New York. London had its own celebrities to gossip about – and she wasn't even close to being one of them.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"I think you were jealous," Daniel flirted as they walked back to her apartment.

"Jealous? Of what?" Betty questioned, oblivious.

"Of Anastasia," he smiled, gently bumping into her from the side.

"_What?_ I don't think so," she denied it; all the while knowing there was some truth to it.

"Then why did you immediately come back over after talking to Grace Eagan? You told me I needed to mingle," he pointed out.

"Because I-I wanted to see how you were doing. Explaining why you chose to leave a successful magazine isn't easy – believe me – I just went through the same thing," she covered.

"You thought Anastasia was eyeing more than just my business assets and turned fifty shades of green," he grinned.

"Don't flatter yourself, Meade," she rolled her eyes, nervously laughing as she opened her door.

"Can I come in?" he playfully pushed.

"I think you're a little too cocky right now to behave," she flirted.

"And how is that a bad thing?" he teased.

"Daniel . . ." she protested.

"Do I at least get a kiss goodnight?" he pouted.

She reluctantly pecked him on the lips.

"Is that all a guy gets for saving your life?" he asked, incorrigibly.

Betty sighed, but couldn't help but smile at his persistence. She coyly bit her bottom lip in contemplation before slowly leaning in, closing the space between them. She gently latched onto his upper lip, then deepened the kiss, allowing her tongue to battle with his, all the while fighting herself on whether she should really be ignoring her resolve.

"Thank you," she told him, resting her forehead against his as they parted.

"Y-You're welcome," Daniel stuttered.

_Damn!_ She had no idea of the effect she had over him - or maybe she did . . .

"Lunch – tomorrow? Meet me at my hotel suite?" he suggested, brushing his fingers along her cheek.

"Okay," she smiled.

"Great," he smiled back, trying to hide the boyish skip in his step as he left.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The next morning, Betty stormed down the hall to Daniel's suite and pounded on the door.

"Hey, you're early! Couldn't get enough of me?" he teased, pulling a t-shirt over his head, oblivious to her less-than-pleasant mood.

She stayed silent and flung a tabloid in his face that read: 'MODE Mogul Trashes Career for Affair with Former Assistant', a picture of them dancing at the launch party below it.

"I uh, I might've left a big hint for Anastasia . . ." he nervously began.

Betty gave him an enraged look, demanding him to explain.

Daniel led her to the couch.

"Before I came here, I turned in my last letter as editor . . . I indicated that I had a friend who I wanted to be more. She probably put two and two together, since I was all the way in London and you used to work for me," he revealed.

"You _what?_" Betty angrily exclaimed. "Daniel, how _could_ you? Now the entire world knows – or at least two countries! Do you have any idea how bad this is?" she berated him.

"I-I'm sorry! I was just saying how I felt. It's not like I mentioned your name," he defended himself.

"You didn't have to, Daniel. Do you have any other female friends who are strictly friends? I can't believe this! Now, I'm trapped – _screwed!_ _Jesus_, Daniel! If I don't decide I want a relationship with you I'll be labeled a heartless, selfish bitch. And if I do, all I'll be known as is Daniel Meade's girlfriend – not Betty Suarez, competent magazine editor. _What the hell were you thinking?_" Betty shouted, unable to control her anger.

"You're right. I _wasn't_ thinking. I mean, _obviously_ me being in love with you is a _shitty, inconceivable_ idea. And right now, it's the last thing I wish I was!" he cynically retorted, slinging the latest issue of MODE in her face, before going to the bedroom and slamming the door, leaving her to let herself out.

Betty stood there for a moment, completely flummoxed. Did he just say he was in love with her? She opened the magazine to the editor's page, slumping down on the floor as she read his heartfelt words.

He really _was_ serious about this. All along she had believed he was only missing the relationship they once had and lusting after their one night of passion, carelessly throwing away his career on a whim. But this was real. She hadn't wanted to see it – didn't want to take the risk and be responsible – but she couldn't deny it any longer.

She stood up and brought her hand to the door knob yet hesitated to turn it. Maybe she should let him cool off. It wasn't as if she knew exactly what to say. If she told him she wanted to be with him, he'd accuse her of pitying him. And she wasn't. Now, more than ever, it was clear to her that this was where she belonged – no matter what the outcome.

Afraid Daniel would do something drastic, like go back to New York without saying 'Goodbye', she grabbed a piece of paper and wrote him a note, sliding it under the door before she left. She just hoped he'd read it and listen to her.


	4. Chapter 4

_Thank you all for reading and for your comments - they mean a lot! :) Here is the final chapter . . ._

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Daniel mindlessly stared at the ceiling, trying to calm himself down. She was toying with his heart, playing with his emotions. Maybe it wasn't intentional, but it didn't make it any better. First she wanted him, then she left without a decent discussion about what happened between them. And then when he came here and said he wanted a chance to be with her, she fought him on it. And after inviting him to a party she left him on his own only to flirt with him on the way home. And now she was pissed because he wrote how he felt about her. Wasn't that _his_ choice? _He_ was the one who put his heart on the line for her to shatter it into miniscule pieces. Couldn't she see what this was doing to him?

Or maybe Betty _was_ right. What the hell was he thinking, hoping she would see anything more in him than a friend with benefits? After all, the longest committed relationship he'd had in his life only lasted a few months – not that it was his fault, but it still didn't make for the best track record. That, and his impulsiveness in throwing himself in head-first and thinking later about the consequences.

But this time, he _had_ thought it through – so much it had made his head hurt. He wasn't truly happy at MODE – not without Betty there. She had been his only motivation to succeed – other than to spite his father and Wilhelmina, that is. But that wasn't even worth it anymore. He needed a change . . . a job he truly wanted . . . where the woman he truly wanted was. The only problem was that she didn't want _him_ – not enough to screw the freakin' media and take a risk on their relationship, anyway.

Maybe he should call Alexis . . . spend some time with her and DJ in Paris. It wouldn't be the same as having Betty in his life, but it would still be a fresh start . . . a start to get his mind off of her.

He felt his stomach growl. Lunch. That would give him time to mull things over a little more. He got up and opened the door when he heard a crunching sound under his feet. He looked down to find a crumpled piece of paper – a note from Betty. Lunch could wait.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Daniel finally reached the spot where she had asked him to meet her; apprehensive the entire way about what she wanted to tell him. That it was over, probably . . . that seeing him was too hard anymore and even their friendship couldn't withstand the awkwardness. He opened his mouth to let her know he was there, but she spoke first.

"I know it's not our bridge in New York, but I was hoping we could make it ours now that we're both here," Betty said, pensively looking out at the view of the Thames River as she leaned against the railing of the Tower Bridge.

"Are you sure you want that – me in your new life?" Daniel questioned, careful not to get his hopes up.

"Daniel, I'll always want you to be a part of my life – no matter what we are to each other," she assured him, turning toward him.

"So what are we, Betty?" he asked.

Betty took a shaky breath in and hesitated for a moment. The words she said next would impact the state of their future together and it scared the hell out of her. She took his hand, half for comfort and half in apology.

"I guess that's up to you – if you can forgive me for the way I treated you. I was so focused on the risks for both of us . . . how the media would react . . . and I didn't think you were that serious. I didn't want to be responsible for the fallout. I should have believed you. Deep down, I know you've changed. But quitting your job . . . moving here for me – it seemed so old-school Daniel that I was afraid to accept the truth – that all of this was real. I'm so sorry, Daniel. I never meant to hurt you," Betty apologized.

"It's okay," Daniel smiled and squeezed her hand. "I was probably a little too bold for you – showing up out of nowhere . . . telling you I quit my job because of you; it was a lot of pressure – especially when you'd just moved here yourself, and were still trying to find your footing. But I want you to know that I didn't come to this decision lightly. I honestly didn't feel like I belonged at MODE anymore. I've never had a chance to decide what I've wanted to do – it had already been decided for me when I was born. And I didn't want to lose you. So it only made sense for me to start over in the place where you were," he explained.

"Looking back, this is the sweetest, most incredible thing a guy's ever done for me. It's the kind of thing that only happens in fairytales, you know?" she shyly looked up at him.

"Well, I wasn't really going for that, but if you must, just call me Your Highness," he chuckled.

Betty shoved his chest, rolling her eyes.

Daniel playfully pulled her into his arms, causing her to giggle from his affection.

She rested her head on his chest, happy to simply have him back . . . laughing, joking . . . like it used to be.

"I love you," she grinned, surprised at how easily it rolled off her tongue.

"I know you do," he said, sighing in frustration, knowing she still meant it as a friend.

But as if Betty could read his mind, she clarified her words.

"No, Daniel. I mean it – I'm crazy in love with you. I kept denying it, trying to reason with myself that it was lust . . . nostalgia – that we both were deluding ourselves - but I love you," she confessed.

Daniel stood silent, unsure if he had heard her right. After all of the drama between them it seemed surreal for her to be saying the three words he had longed to hear from her.

"A-Are we still good?" Betty asked, skeptical of his reaction.

Daniel's mouth slowly curved into a giant grin.

"We're better than good – much better," he told her, planting a soft, tender kiss on her lips.

"Good," she smiled, gently pressing her forehead against his.

Betty knew he could have easily turned her away – not even shown up at all. But he did. And even though she was still terrified of what the future held, she realized that having him with her wouldn't make it worse, but instead, not as bad.

Daniel pulled her tighter into him, releasing a breath of relief and contentment. He was truly the happiest he had ever been in his life. He wondered if at any minute someone would wake him up to reality.

"Um . . . Daniel? A group of tourists are starting to stare at us," Betty said, self-conscious of them exposing their vulnerability to the public.

"So. Let them," he shrugged and kissed her with every emotion he had in him.

As they broke, Betty felt her cheeks warm from embarrassment and a slight rush of adventure.

"You're impossible," she muttered into his lips. "Let's go - I'm starving, and I know you are too," she grabbed his arm and led him away from the crowd.

"How about we postpone lunch and go back to my hotel?" he seductively whispered in her ear as he wrapped his arm around her waist.

"Wasn't jumping into things how we got into this disaster in the first place?" Betty pointed out.

"But it was a _beautiful_ disaster – it got us to where we are now," he countered.

"True. But I still think we should take things slow - lunch, dinner, movies, for a few weeks and go from there," she maintained.

"We can still do those things too, you know," he reminded her.

"Daniel . . . I don't want to mess this up again," she insisted.

"Whatever you want," Daniel shook his head, knowing there was no use in continuing to argue with her.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Betty woke up the next morning to find herself snuggled against Daniel's bare chest. Uh-oh – this was déjà vu. Wait – no . . . she was fully clothed. He, on the other hand . . . not so much, she discovered as her hands explored Daniel's lower region to find only a pair of boxer briefs.

"Happy to see me?" he teased, grinning sleepily.

"Ha. Ha. I was just wondering if we had . . . you know . . ." Betty answered him.

"Worrying, you mean?" he smirked.

"Shut up!" she playfully poked him.

"As much as I would love to say we did, I assure you I was the perfect gentleman," he told her.

"Thank you. You think I'm stupid, don't you?" she avoided his gaze.

"No . . . A little paranoid maybe," Daniel joked. "But seriously, I think we just need to relax and let things happen,"

"You're right, I just want this to be perfect . . . well, you know what I mean," she said.

"Yeah, I know. We didn't exactly start out that great," he mused.

"We can make up for it, though," she coyly smiled.

"Definitely," he agreed, seductively kissing her lips, neck, and shoulder.

"Mmm . . . Down, boy!" Betty giggled. "I wanna know how and when you talked me into this situation," she light-heartedly commanded.

"Sometime after the end of that movie, if I remember correctly. You freaked out about a crazy guy coming after your arm with a chainsaw. It was either me or that weak, scruffy old bunny of yours to protect you," he chuckled.

"And I picked my scruffy bunny?" she joked.

Daniel attacked her, causing a fit of giggles to ensue.

"You're still here – with all four limbs, aren't you?" Daniel prompted.

"Okay, okay. I picked _you_ – my strong, scruffy new boyfriend," Betty flirted.

"That's better – wait – scruffy?" he feigned offense.

"Mmm-hmm. But it's sexy scruffy," she assured him, nuzzling his cheek.

"So you think I'm sexy?" he mischievously raised an eyebrow and toyed with the strap on her cami.

"You're not getting anywhere with this, Meade," she replied, knowing exactly where his mind was going.

"Thought I'd give it a shot. I mean, I've got the most gorgeous, smartest, amazingly talented girl in bed with me - who wouldn't?" he defended himself.

"Still not gonna work. But I appreciate the compliments," Betty perkily kissed him.

They lay still for a while when she began to contemplate if this was really what Daniel wanted. She could finally admit to herself that with him was where she belonged, but she still couldn't get over how much he was willing to sacrifice to be with her. The guilt continued to loom over her head.

"Are you really happy . . . leaving everything in New York behind?" she wondered.

"Completely. I can find a job anywhere, but there's only one you," Daniel sincerely answered.

"You're the sweetest man I know," she smiled and reached for his hand.

"Are you?" he asked, slowly weaving his fingers in and out of hers.

"Undeniably. I can't believe I made such a big deal out of this. I'm sorry," she said.

Daniel wished she wouldn't be so hard on herself. He knew he had expected her to make a snap decision and it wasn't how she worked.

"You don't have to keep saying that. And you wouldn't be you if you didn't overanalyze all the pros and cons. I guess it's why it threw me that night at how spontaneous you were. Not that I minded," he slyly grinned, toying with a lock of her hair.

Betty shyly gazed into his blue eyes.

"You were definitely worth the risk," she told him. "And for the most part, we balance each other out . . . bring out the best in each other," Betty added.

"Exactly," Daniel agreed, his arms pulling her as close to him as they could without hurting her.

Betty curiously looked up at him.

"Are you okay? You seem . . . pensive, a little emotional even," she observed, brushing her hand through his disheveled hair.

Daniel shook his head, a bittersweet smile on his face.

"I was just thinking how lucky I am to have you. I've lost so much in my life, but you stood by me through everything. Now that we're finally in that place, I never want to let you go," he confessed.

"You won't have to," she promised, earnestly parting his lips with hers, silently vowing never to go anywhere without him again.


End file.
